That Butler, Corpse
by Neru Neko Chan
Summary: Another day, another case from the queen, according to Ciel. Despite have the underhand, master and butler are forced to bring the rest of the servants or risk having the manor burned to bits. The "haunted" mansion elicits all different kinds of responses among the group of five, but Ciel remains indifferent despite his butler's odd behavior. However, none may live to tell the tale
1. All Together I

_Welcome to my new series "Corpse Butler". Since I already planned everythng out, hell no I'm not backing out like I did to "Love and Toys", which is being a bitch to me since it's so damn hard to write anything for it. I mean, I understand that people want to see more of it, but I'm really at a block. I honestly can't come up with anything else for it. Q_Q_

_I'm sorry._

_Also, since this is a mystery story as well as horror, tell me if any of you guys can't pick up on things so I know whether to make an explanation of the case when the whole thing is done._

_Genre: Horror, Mystery_

_Status: Not Complete_

_Rating: PG 13_

_Warning: Nonromance, gore, not-so character death, when I showed my friend my notes I had for this she screamed and couldn't sleep at night_

_Fandoms: Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler, Corpse Party_

_Dimension: Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler_

_Disclaimer: All rights go to respectful owners (not me)._

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**ALL TOGETHER I**

_ It's cold._

Pitch black darkness weaved through the room, making a thick, taut air that choked any living thing with its coarse threads.

_It's cold._

Opening his eyes, the child could not see a soul, or rather, could not hear a sound over the harsh pounding of the valiant storm that quaked outside with roaring thunder to aid in chorus.

_It's cold._

Pulling at the bids that bid the use of his forelimbs farewell, the boy struggled on the floor like a fish out of water. He was sure he looked the part.

_It's cold._

Naked body twisting and turning in unimaginable poses that should not be able to be accomplished by any ordinary person, a croaked sound left the depths of his throat. He laid down helplessly on the floor only to realize that he was gagged too, with no way of making his little voice known.

_It's cold._

Though the room had no window, or any facility that let in light whatsoever, the relentless pattering could be heard and found no end, keeping up the pace in a strangely comforting way.

_It's cold._

Staring at the grey stone wall, the boy breathed heavily. He had no energy, as it seemed he did not eat for days.

_It's cold._

Blending perfectly with the chorus of falling precipitation, the boy did not notice the small and almost unnoticeable patter of bare footfalls headed toward him. Creeping up on the quarry, the guilty—the unclean, the hated—walked over to the boy. Slowly realizing he was being watched, he turned on his back to face the eyes of a murderer, only to be met with the rusty blades of scissors in the abdomen.

_It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. IT HURTS!_

_ "My little boy,"_

Upon arriving at the subject matter of his investigation, bypassing the weak defense of Scotland Yard, and pulling his entourage along, the young earl headed into a rickety old hallway, paved with cheap wood and walls that seemed as if they would give way like paper. He had been told that this would be a risky mission, as the area held many rumors. Most of them were quite upsetting.

_"First of all, I would like to say season's greetings, as Spring is approaching. But, I'm afraid I can't spend the season in peace. Apparently, there have been horrifying events happening over in Bristol. I have only heard rumors, but apparently many children have disappeared from the area with no trace left behind."_

"My lord," the earl's loyal butler said, snapping his master from his thoughts. "I think we should be extra careful here, if I may voice my opinion. The very floorboards do not seem like they will hold with our weight. And with _those _three following us…"

The young master waved his servant off. "I know it's not an ideal situation, but Bristol is very far away from my mansion and I didn't want to risk it being burned down while investigating."

_"The talk of the town isn't much, but from what I have heard from my vigilant advisors, all the students who have gone missing were all decent of students from the same primary school. The school has been shut down due to being bought out by some mining company who found evidence of gold under the building. Since then, nobody has inhabited it. However, nobody was able to wreck the building and turn it into a mine because something kept them from doing it. I don't know why, but that is not of my upmost concern at the moment."_

The black-clad servant rolled his eyes, mumbling, "If we brought them, it's this building we might put at risk."

"Shut up," the earl said, poking at some loose floorboards curiously. "At this point of time, we aren't sure what we're looking for exactly. It could have nothing to do with this old school at all. It just seems like a waste of time to have it around." Mumbling to himself, Earl Ciel Phantomhive said, "I wonder why they were driven away."

"Humans are strange creatures," the butler shrugged off, looking at an old bulletin board with deteriorated paper scraps on it. Each one of them was dated at least forty years back.

_"What I'm worried about is why they went missing. Why must the children of these people go missing in an old and abandoned school? I would love it so much if you could at least find out what happened and what is causing this mess and report it back to me at once."_

A loud chorus of footfalls echoed down the halls, heightened only by the threats the floorboards made when nearly caving in under the heavy feet. "Mr. Sebastian~!" the three other servants yelled. "Young master~! Wait up!"

Glaring heavily at the cook, gardener, and maid—the three equally incompetent, but family no less—Ciel huffed. "Be quiet, will you three?" he snapped. "You'll wake the rats."

Sniffling out mumbled forms of "I'm sorry," the three trailed the master and butler, making faces at all of the gruesome details the school grounds had to give.

_"Scotland yard has been working on the case for nearly a year with little to no leads. I hope you can be of help."_

"Let's start here," the little earl stopped at a single door in the corner of the hall. "It's best to move from the outside and work our way in." He waited for his butler to open the door for him before stepping inside with his chin held high. "Hopefully those daft twits Scotland Yard has didn't ruin any evidence."

_"I put my trust in you with the whole of this case. Don't fail me now, my boy!"_

Sebastian looked around the dusty room cautiously. Desks were scattered about the room in no line or order whatsoever, sprinkled with dust and forty-year-old graffiti. The teacher's desk was at the head of the room, standing tall and erect despite the legs that were bent and worn with age. Two doors stood at the opposite ends of the class, one leading to a closet and the other leading back to the hall.

_"Also, you must come and share some of my apple cinnamon flavored doughrings, they're simply marvelous! Sincerely, Victoria."_

"Young master," he said. "Perhaps we should have researched more before hoping we would stumble upon anything."

"What was there to research?" Ciel mumbled, wiping away some dust on the desk to uncover hateful messages the students left. "The libraries and local records had nothing that would hint about past dilemmas. Only about recent news, since newspapers aren't kept on record for that long."

The butler just rolled his eyes and approached the closet, inspecting it as if it would help them bring a quick conclusion to the case. "Still, it almost feels as if we're going in empty handed."

"That may be so—"

**_CRASH_**

****"Maylene!" Ciel snapped, staring at the blatantly confused maid on the floor who was shrouded in guilt, pain, and broken desk pieces. "What happened?!"

With the quick help from the gardener, the clumsy Maylene hoisted herself up on her untied booted feet. "I-I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry, sir!" she stammered, reeling some steps away, hiding behind the stoic chef to the side. "I-I-I tripped, yes I did!"

Sebastian and Ciel sighed simultaneously. Their decision to bring their most incompetent servants was slowly falling into regret.

"S-she didn't mean it," Finny tried, trying to loosen the air between the master and the maid. "It seems quite easy to break things here."

Ciel growled. "We can't afford to lose any more plausible evidence here," he stated, sauntering back over to the teacher's desk. "Heaven knows if Scotland Yard will blame us for the mess."

The demon snickered in a misinterpreted response.

"Blame us?" the chef asked. "We ain't doing nothing wrong!"

"I beg to differ," Sebastian cut off, stepping in front of the busy young master. "Apparently our first mistake was deciding to bring you three to the crime scene in the first place."

The room went deadly quiet.

Across the plain, Finny leaned his weight on the wall and let out a loud sniffle. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "W-we wanted to help, but—"

**_CRASH_**

"Finnian!" Ciel yelped as the wall under his gardener caved in and turned to rubble under the power of Herculean strength.

In a daze, Finny got up and stumbled recklessly over to his friends. Looking at them all cross-eyed, he mumbled out another, "I'm sorry," before going to lean on yet another desk that caved in. Staring horrified at all the wooden corpses, Ciel's bitty fists trembled.

"Look at what you did!" he screeched, taking fistfuls of his slate-colored hair and giving each root a quick tug. "How are we supposed to explain this to the Yard, or worse, the Queen?!"

Tears bubbling up at the edge of their eyelids, both Maylene and Finnian backed toward the exit. "W-we're s-s-so sorry, Young Master!" they sniffed before running out of the room in different directions, wailing to the rats.

Smacking his face, the master sighed at the display. "You guys…"

"Eh, should I go find 'em?" Bard asked, gesturing to the door.

"No," Ciel shook his head. "I'll go. I caused this mess, no matter how you look at it. You and Sebastian go and salvage what you can. It shouldn't be too hard."

Sebastian flinched. "Young Master, I don't believe you should—"

"It's alright," Ciel smirked, stepping outside the doorframe. "What's the worst that can happen? Plus, if we don't stop them soon, even more walls are bound to break."

"Young Master!"

With that, Ciel left, off to find the most lethal of the two twits.

Bard approached behind Sebastian, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong, mate? It's an old school. Not like any ghosts are gonna pop up and eat him."

"I most certainly hope not."

Not understanding the innuendo of the statement, the chef and the butler got back to work, obeying their master's order, no matter how anxious they were to leave alive.

…

"Finny!" Ciel called, running through the halls and making note of all the walls with dents on them. The floorboards creaked messily like a lute that had long been out of tune. Under each pump of his short thin legs, it almost felt like he would fall through paper to the next floor under, or even possibly Hell itself. "Finny!"

Loud sobbing echoed across the wing, followed by the loud creak of knees falling to the ground.

"Finny…" Ciel sighed, leaning over his form. "Why on earth did you run off like that?"

Between the hitches and hics of his voice, the gardener spoke. "I-I-I thought y-you were m-m-mad and meeeeeeeee! Waaaaahhhh!"

"Well of course I'm mad. But that doesn't mean things won't get better. There's a whole school to check out. I'm not going to kill because of one room," the master cooed, giving the childish companion an awkward pat on the back.

"B-b-but M-Mr. Sebastiaaaaaaaan! He-he said… SNIIIIIIFFFFF—"

Ciel sighed. "Forget what he said. He's not the master. He has just as much of a right to be here as you do."

"B-but I broke—"

"I said it was okay!" Ciel relaxed his back next to his gardener, folding his hands behind his back and looking down at him. "I told you, it's nothing to be afraid of. We'll try elsewhere."

Finny wiped his drippy nose on his arm. "Y-you mean it?"

"…"

"Young Master?"

"Hush." Standing dead still in pin-drop silence, Ciel held his arms out in front of him, eye darting every which way. "Do you feel it?"

Looking confused at his master, Finny tilted his head and stood up, only to be caught off guard by the shaking of the very ground his feet were planted. "Wha?!"

Clinging to the cracks on the musty wallpaper, Ciel refused to be thrown off balance. "It's an earthquake!" he stated. "We need to find the others and get out. It's possible the roof might collapse on us."

Finny gasped, adding his own trembling to the rhythm of the building. "Col…lapse…?" he whispered before the beats of the ground grew harder, faster, and more frequent, growing into a shaky crescendo as all of the creaky floorboards, weak walls, and moldy supporting beams gave way. Ciel was violently thrown off his feet, and Finny only had time to catch his waist before the roof over their heads was beaten out of place.

"Young Master!"

"Finny!"

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_The sooner I get enough reviews, the sooner I update. *watching you like a ghost*_


	2. Maylene All Alone I

_Short chapter is short. D:_

_Just uploading this because I already have it._

_Time to see a move on._

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**MAYLENE ALL ALONE I**

The room went silent as the desperate shaking of the floor was dulled to the nonchalant expanding and contracting of wet wood. Small shaky breaths could be heard behind one of the women's laboratory stalls. In the heat of the moment, Maylene didn't know exactly what to make of her master yelling at her, or the disturbance of the building. Only her assumption that Finny broke down half of the entire edifice still stood as she took her feet off the toilet seat where she sat and slowly crept out of the stall's confines.

"H-hello…?" Maylene shivered, stepping away from the public bathroom. "Where is anyone? Is anyone going to save me?"

Not like she wasn't anticipating a speech from the devilishly handsome butler and a nice "I care" kiss on the lips, of course.

Nobody was in sight as the maid backtracked the halls to where she should have met someone, but instead was met with nothingness. Just a lifeless room filled with lifeless desks, all erect and standing tall. Leaving everything as is, Maylene went and walked through the halls, hoping for a single sound other than the light and airy drizzle of precipitation on windows.

"Hellooooo?"

Her shrill voice echoed throughout the long and dark hallway that threatened to engulf her in one bite. Calling and calling to pursue a nonexistent answer, Maylene approached another door, this one having the sound of slight _tap-tap-tapping_ of a typewriter. Finally, a proof of life. Its rusted over door handle served little to deter any inquisitive humanoid that came its way, and aided to open the door only to cave in and crumble in the maid's hand once she was inside. Taking note of the usable handle from the inside, Maylene figured the door was only accessible from the inside and that was that.

Wary glances were set among the room, and the maid shuffled inside. Eyeing a single typewriter on a nurse's desk which was typing on a sheet of newsprint all on its own, Maylene cursed herself for believing one of her workmates or master would be typing at a time like this.

**FOUR CHILDREN ONE ADULT MURDERED AT SCENE**

_Scotland Yard uncovered a chain of murders, all happening at the same time and place. Three of the children were found mangled in a janitor closet while the fourth was found decorated with priceless jewelry with large diamonds replacing the eyes and scratch marks all over the body. The scent of semen and decay covered the entire corpse. The adult was a janitor, however, an autopsy shows that he died before the children. All of these children were…_

… That's where it cut off.

Upon spying the dull glint of metal in the distance, keeping her arms tucked in and back hunched, a slight smile on her face, she approached the source only to lay her eyes upon a pair of large scissors with fresh blood dripping down its twin blades onto the desktop surface. "That's odd," Maylene speculated. "I don't recall anyone else being in the building before our group came. Things be turning interesting, yes they are."

Hesitantly reaching out for the bloodied, rusty tool, the back of her mind told her that there was someone watching. The poor little maid paid no heed, wielding the scissors that had a wingspan the size of her entire forearm. Tiny drops of warm blood cascaded down the cold blades and onto her fingers, dying her thumb a light rubicund.

"W-waat chuu ooin?"

In an instant, the maid was on guard, wielding the scissors like the lethal weapon it was. Turning to face the holder of the voice, Maylene's trained eyes came upon the small, glowing form of that of a small child holding a string toy in her lithe arms.

"Waat chuu ooin?!" the child asked more nervously, taking a step back. The child spirit, now that Maylene's eyes adjusted, now looked a dull pink, almost white in comparison with the walls. Neither eye color nor hair color could be made out due to this, but the child looked around eight. To be walking about in a place like this at such a young age was dangerous, even if the child was no longer alive.

"E-err," the flustered maid started. "A-are you a trapped spirit here? O-or an apparition sent from God?" As she said her last sentence, Maylene accidentally pointed the heavy weapon at the ghost, not truly understanding what it meant to the dead.

At the sight of freshly dripping blood, the ghost girl squealed. "Ihm sahrey!" she shouted, running down the hall. "Ihm sahrey!"

And just like that, Maylene's body went completely numb, her blood running cold and heavy scissors dropping from her cerise dyed hands.

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_Sahrey for the shortness, again. Review for longer chapters._


	3. Ciel and Finnian I

_Y'know, for a new story, I can't possibly ask for a bunch of reviews on the first day. Or a bunch of views, for the matter. But, you guys are great. For two chapters and, like, 1-2 days of being up, I think 4 reviews is progress. And so, I think you guys deserved this chapter. I would also like to say that, yes, the characters are split into groups, so the chapters will be considerably shorter because each group could only do so much. BUT, since I have school off for the rest of the week, I will be doing my best to write as much as I can before I go into hibernation due to effing school. This, of course, doesn't mean you'll be getting updates so frequent, especially in the end when the chapters get longer again._

_I lost my purpose of speaking these words._

_Whatever. ENJOY, MY BABIES._

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**CIEL AND FINNIAN I**

Waking up against the rickety wall in a school that was supposedly haunted seemingly alone was not what Earl Ciel Phantomhive had expected to do. Ever. In his life. But, he did, and his back was painfully sore because of it.

Groaning and holding his head, Ciel looked around the hallway. The area had definitely changed from the last time he opened his eyes. Large holes were splayed across the boards, making some ways unfitting for travel. Large openings also made themselves aware in the floor above his own, making a skylightesque structure. Looking more closely, the holes in the ground were more like Hell's way, tempting you to look over the hole and fall to your death.

"Finny?" Ciel called, more to himself than anything. "Finny? Are you near?"

It was then the master noticed that he was sitting on something soft and fleshy.

"Finny!" he scolded, not removing his little rump from his comfortable seat on Finny's back. "What are you doing under me?!"

The gardener was laying flat on his stomach, limbs spread wide to pancake the floor. "When the earthquake hit, I was able to dodge us both from the ceiling," he whined from the lack of oxygen. "But the Young Master had fainted, so I led us to safety in another hallway. When I figured I couldn't just let my master sleep on the cold hard ground… I made myself into a mattress instead."

Sighing in relief that his Herculean companion was not lost or injured, Ciel got up from his seat and waited for Finny to slowly clamber to his feet. "We need to see if any of the others were hurt. The earthquake took out more than expected and made a lot of damage. How long was I out?"

"About twenty minutes, sir."

"I certainly hope that doesn't mean twenty hours." The undereducated gardener cocked his head at the comment but shook it out of mind as they went off to investigate, Finny trailing behind with a wide smile and Ciel with a look of indifference that suited his position.

When arriving at the area where the chef and butler _should_ be working, _should_ be inside, Ciel knew instantly the change in the atmosphere. Bursting through the flimsy doors, the master made his presence known. "Sebastian? Bard?"

To no one's surprise, save the shocked gardener, nobody was in the room cleaning. Nobody was in the room organizing. Nobody was in the room.

Earl Phantomhive gritted his teeth. "Disobey my orders…!" he seethed. "Now we need to look for them. Just great. This is just what I need."

"Really?" the gardener asked. "Because it seems like you're stressed out like this."

"Finny."

"Yes Young Master?"

"I was being sarcastic."

"Oh."

Cursing under his breath for not knowing how to handle the situation, Finnian walked behind his master. He wasn't taught an education until he was well into his teens, and so he was still a bit slow. He could not think the same way his master did, nor could he solve problems like his master did. Everything he was able to do was thanks to his master and Sebastian. Even so, that could only go so far.

Ciel sighed after seemingly a whole hour of walking. They had been calling the chef's and butler's names, but it all seemed futile, and what was worse, they seemed to be going in circles. "I give up," he said, sliding down a wall to sit and pull his skinny legs in. "If they are still alive, they will make their presences known one way or another. I have no doubt that Sebastian won't at least try. I'm more intrigued about Maylene at the moment. If she didn't already find the two men, then she's all alone in this large school with nobody to cover her back."

Finny froze, folding his arms. He couldn't help but tremble slightly at everything his master said. He understood, of course, for the most part. And he was worried, not just for his friends, but for the people he came to know as family. "Poor Maylene…" he whispered.

"I'm sure she's doing alright, too," Ciel sympathized quickly. "She's a servant of Phantomhive. There is no need to doubt my servants."

Finnian hid his face. "I know, but… Still, it's alright to worry."

"I have no worries."

The gardener frowned. "Right…"

The group fell into silence, one of them sitting on the cold hard boards and the other leaning lax on the wall. As their mouths were sewed shut, their thoughts grew and wandered. Any logical person would at least try to escape and call the police, but Ciel was different, a different type of logic. He was more stumped as to why Sebastian wasn't coming when he was called for. He did not order for him to do so, so the young earl could only wonder what was keeping them apart. Certainly the butler of Phantomhive wasn't playing a joke on him. And his behavior before they departed…

_Sebastian flinched. "Young Master, I don't believe you should—"_

_ "It's alright," Ciel smirked, stepping outside the doorframe. "What's the worst that can happen? Plus, if we don't stop them soon, even more walls are bound to break."_

_ "Young Master!"_

Ciel hummed. _"It's as if he knew something was about to happen. That dumbass! Why didn't he tell me? Of course, I _did_ cut him off. But, no matter. And what's keeping him? I'm getting hungry…"_

The master was cut from his thoughts by the loud crashing sound emitting from the next wing over. Two timely gasps synchronized from the group as they both shot up to attention. "Come now," Ciel ordered Finny. "Let's go!"

Dodging the crevices in the ground and stumbling over their own toes, the two rushed to the scene of brown dust flying every which way, shielding their eyes just before two black shadows crossed their paths.

"Y-Young Master!" Finny shouted, coughing slightly. "I can't make anything out."

Said master coughed irritably into his tight fist, tearing at the eyes. "Just wait! It'll—cough—clear up!"

And, after minutes of hacking and sniffling, it did.

Swiping the air as the last bits of dust cleared, they rested their reddened eyes on a broken stairway leading to the floor above. Finnian crept closer for further inspection. "I wonder what caused it to just up and break like that."

Ciel walked approached and looked over his gardener's shoulder. "It didn't. Look at the nails on the step. Though they're rusted, they aren't broken. That means someone forcefully pulled them out."

Finnian nearly jumped at those words. "Then that means someone was here! And we aren't alone!"

Ciel nodded and stood. "They couldn't have gotten far. If I had to guess, they—or she—saw the dust and ran for cover. Which would likely be…" Looking over his own shoulder, he stared at a single door at the end of the hall. "… there."

Busting the door down would be an easy task for the overly strong gardener. Even though they didn't have a key—they didn't fear the door was locked, though, if someone was inside—they would be able to get into any room, or so they thought.

Traversing quietly behind his servant, Ciel poked his nose into the room. It was a classroom just like the one they were studying before they got separated. However, there were two differences. One was the fact that no furniture, save the door, was broken. The second was that on the chalkboard, there was a crude, unfinished drawing, accompanied by a piece of chalk putting together the picture without anyone manning it.

Finny stared at the chalk like a ghost itself. "H-h-how odd," he stammered. "It didn't react."

"Then it mustn't be afraid of us," Ciel stated. "Therefore, we must pay it no mind and continue on." It was then that the earl's eyes laid upon a shiny black object at the other side of the room. Slipping closer, he picked up the pistol and held it up.

The gardener stared at it in horror, trembling on the ground, clinging to a desk chair like it was the embodiment of life.

Ciel scoffed. "What is it? You look like you've never seen a gun before," he said nonchalantly, pocketing the item.

Finny held up a shaking hand, pointing at the weapon. "T-t-that's B-B-Bard's gun! I-I've seen him c-clean it sometimes at n-n-night."

The claim that he was holding his servant's weapon made the earl take it out of his pocket again. "… Why in the world would he leave something as precious as a weapon here of all places…?"

Finny stood, composing himself again. "I don't know but… maybe he's close? We should leave it here in case he needs it."

Ciel waved him off, putting the pistol away. "I intend to do no such thing. You see, he has Sebastian, a man who is always prepared for the worst and can fight much better than anyone else in the manor. Oh, sorry for that."

"None taken."

"Anyways," Ciel cleared his throat. "We need this protection, no matter how small. So Finny, read my lips carefully."

The gardener got eye-level with his master's mouth, staring intently at the rosy lips.

"Be careful," the earl said carefully. "Keep calm, stay alert, and most of all, _stay alive._"

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_Reviews finally give you a glimpse at what the hell is going on._


	4. Sebastian and Bard I

Okay_ guys, y'all know I love you. But you guys dissapointed me last chapter. I ask for reviews. I see all these views but not _re_views. Reviews make me happy. Views make me seem like my work isn't really growing._

_I want my work to grow._

_NONETHELESS, since you guys aren't going to give me what I want, I resorted to last resort and posted the new chapter in a "FUCK IT"-like state, simply because doing nothing will cause nothing, amirite? *highfives people*_

_I expect more in the future if you want more. Because the more reviews I get, the faster I update._

_I think this goes for MANY other people on here._

_... Enjoy._

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**SEBASTIAN AND BARD I**

"So, what you're saying is…" Bard started off. The chef was sitting cross-legged on the floor of their assigned room, rubbing the bulbous bump on his head. His eyes darted all around the room, except for choice moments when they trained on his partner, the butler, who was sitting calmly on one of the desks looking down at him with a relaxed expression. "… I hit my head on one of the desks, passed out, and you were awake all this time and didn't do shit."

"I was simply carrying out my master's orders," Sebastian sighed. "He said to clean up and find evidence, if at all, but even I couldn't find anything worthwhile, save some questionably hateful messages toward the last teacher of this class."

Bard shook his head. "You should have gone to look for him. Everyone with some common sense knows that."

"His orders were clear," the butler pressed, glaring slightly. "I will not be belittled by a man who cannot even handle himself in a situation such as this."

"Touché," Bard spat. "Now what do we do?"

Sebastian leapt down from his perch and stood in front of the chef, offering him a single hand. "Seeing as I couldn't have left you alone while you were passed out, I'd say now is the time to look for the Young Master," he stated. "Unless you have any obscene, unproductive objections."

The chef could only roll his eyes. "Harsh. Let's go." Accepting the offering from his only companion, Bard stood on his feet and gave his wound fresh air. "Shit, I must've been hit hard."

"You were," the butler said simply as if he played no part in the matter. He knew that the chef had no knowledge on how much damage a school desk could cause on one's head. "Are we going or not?"

Bard grinded his teeth and placed his hands less-than-delicately behind his head, walking behind the black clad man who was, incidentally, his superior at the moment.

The group of two continued on in silence. It seemed as if they completely circled the entire first floor. Bardroy frowned in confusion as nothing but the screams of the floorboards passed his ears. "Hey, I don't think the Young Master is on this floor."

Sebastian's twitch of the brow was almost audible. "You don't say," the butler growled lightly. It was torture not knowing exactly where Ciel was, and being stuck with one of the dafts was not helping at all. "This school has three floors, not including the basement. I suggest trying to find stairs going upwards this time around."

"Your guess is just as good as mine," Bard shrugged off. The two carried on in nail biting silence that racked at the back of the chef's mind. He was usually able to keep a calm disclosure, even in times of trauma. He had learned from his times as a general. It was something forced upon him, to keep his chin high and a clear head. It had helped him discover the movements of the enemy on the battlefield, and he wasn't going to let this superior power go to waste in case there was another force in on the case his master was trying to solve. Bard wouldn't hesitate to kill the enemy. He wouldn't hesitate to purge any threat that could be a burden in the future.

However, the back of the chef's mind was a mess. At every passing turn, a chill ran down his spine, and dark thoughts spun and churned. He was starting to question things he shouldn't, it was fogging his rightful judgment. _"What's wrong with this guy?" _Bard thought. _"Mr. Sebastian's arrogance might get us killed if he doesn't at least take me seriously. Who does he think I am? Just some road kill he found on the street a few minutes ago? Does he really think I'm good for nothing like the selfish bastard he is? If he doesn't hear me out, I really fear for our lives. There's no way he can have something like this completely under control. Not without our master's ord—"_

"Do you hear something?" Sebastian asked, stopping so abruptly that Bard slammed into his back and snapped out of his reverie at a breakneck speed. Standing still, lest the floor and walls begin their singing again, the chef listened for whatever the butler was hearing. Closing his eyes to hone in on the excess sounds, several long minutes later, Bard identified whatever it was.

"It sounds like…" Bard whispered, pushing himself harder. "… a recording?"

"Not exactly." Slinking over to the corner of the wing, the recorded voice became ten times louder and equally so clearer. "It has a cracked, mutilated voice. An artificial one, as if it has been banged up and worn out for ages. It's definitely one that nobody expected us to hear, otherwise they would have done a better job in preserving it. More so, if the voice is this discombobulated and broken, it was probably not handled by an adult. A child would be a likely candidate for destroying a recording like this. And if a child had free reign over a recording, it was probably not something an adult would use. A toy, perhaps?"

Bard would have bowed down to his workmate if he had not valued his dignity so much.

"Yeah, well…" the chef croaked. "How are we to be sure?"

"We follow the sound, of course." Sebastian flashed Bard a sneer of superiority before turning his back to him and down the wing. They had no care how much their feet pounded against the weakening floorboards, only that once the sound was located, they could not possibly lose it. It stood out against the medley of mold and fungi. It was so deformed that it was hard to confuse it. Though, had a whale or a wolf pack joined in, there would be no means of hearing it in the first place.

The two followed the recording to a short wing. "Hey, it's a staircase," Bard acknowledged. "Finally we can explore the other floors."

"Not just yet," Sebastian said, holding out a gloved hand. "I would like to find the recording before we advance. It could hold some information about what's going on."

Bard rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Now isn't the time to be playing with toys, Mr. Sebastian. The sooner we find the Young Master, the sooner we can leave this hell-hole deathtrap."

Sebastian slowly walked over to the staircase. "You may be wrong about that," he said blandly. "Even if we found the Young Master and Finnian, what about Maylene? She's as part of the Phantomhive security as you are. Don't get me wrong, we could always replace her. But you wouldn't want that, would you? Would you feel depressed for losing another comrade on the battlefield?"

The butler approached the stairs with apprehension, masking it with indifference as he found a pull-string patch doll with matted rotten-brown yarn hair and abyss-black button eyes stuck between boards of the stairs as if used in the original building plan to cushion the pieces of wood after they were nailed together. Though the indecent squawking of incomprehensive words would not stop, the pull-string was not moving, was not being pulled, nor was it being let go. The recording inside the doll was playing on its own.

"Well, when you put it that way… But who's to say they haven't already found her yet? She could be safe with them."

"And are we completely certain of that?" Reaching out for the annoying little thing calling out to him, Sebastian pulled at the patchwork doll's limb only to cause a tear in the stitching.

"… No…" Bard groaned. "But let's hope for the best, right?"

"And expect the worst. Come and help me here," Sebastian snapped, staring at the tightly affixed boards. "The doll is making the noise. Perhaps if we remove it, we can disable it?"

Bard shrugged, placing his hands on his knees. "You try pulling it out?"

"Yes."

Bard stared at the doll that was currently forcing a headache onto him before placing a heavily booted foot on the board clamping the tiny terror into place. "Then why don't we try to force it out of here?"

"Bard, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why the fuck not?" The chef got on his knees and slipped his fingertips under the cavity, pulling the step upward. "The sooner we get rid of this thing, the less intense my migraine will be."

Sebastian scoffed. "Such a selfish answer. But we still don't know how long dust has collected here."

"What's your—grr—point?"

"My point is," Sebastian pressed. "We shouldn't be touching things that we don't know much about."

"You're the one that wanted—unf—to get this stupid doll in the first place—_shit this thing is stuck!_" Straining his muscles so that veins were popping from his wrists and forehead, Bard pulled at the nails as if his life depended on it.

"There must be another way—"

However, before the butler could finish his sentence, Bard was able to wrench off the piece of wood and simultaneously unleash puffs of brown dust into the air that was previously kept inside the cavity all along. Grabbing the chef's wrist and yanking him away from the stairs, they ran from the smog straight to a door at the end of the hall.

Slamming it shut due to their adrenaline high and blocking out any dust threatening to come their way, Sebastian was the first to snap out of his trance. His demonic hearing was picking up something else, equally ear catching but not so disturbing.

Across the way of the classroom, a single piece of chalk stood erect, dancing across the black board in long fluid flicks. The formation of a rather shitty picture was under way, so what was being depicted was beyond a demon's guess.

Bard was the second one to take in his surroundings, staring at the floating chalk with trepidation. "… What… the fuck?" he growled, reaching a hand into his pocket for his concealed pistol he always kept with him at all times. Though there was no third person being picked up by their eyes, Bard felt that if he shot at the invisible entity, the chalk would stop acting so strange.

Sebastian placed a hand on Bard's shooting arm. "Don't," he commanded. "Whatever it seems doesn't seem to be after us… just yet."

Bard grinded his teeth again. Oh, how he wished he could have his cigarettes with him right now. "Just yet?" he snapped. "_Just yet?_ You're a mad man, you know that, Mr. Sebastian? This… This is _weird. _This isn't normal by any standards."

Sebastian turned to him, glaring straight into his eyes. "I could say the same exact thing about you."

"At least I'm not invisible!" Bard yelled, whipping out the black newly-polished pistol and aiming at the side of the chalk.

"I said don't!" Sebastian commanded. "There's something strange going on in this entire school. We should just save our breath and our ammo for real threats that try to kill us. Just leave this thing alone."

Bard could feel himself going insane. _"Possible threats? This thing isn't one of us. We don't need it. Though I can't see it, it just makes it more of a danger. The worst things are ones you can't see, after all."_ Cocking his gun again against Sebastian's orders, he placed his finger on the trigger.

The chef did not notice he was apprehended until his face was pushed against the cold hard ground.

"Why do you never listen to me?!" Sebastian scolded, forcing the gun out of Bard's hobbled hands and throwing it on a faraway desk. "Just trust me on this. I know you had a lot of experience with your time as a soldier, but this is different. There are new forces at play, unpredictable ones at that. Would it honestly kill you to just lay low and not cause a disturbance?"

"That's what I'd like to know—_ahh_!" Bard screamed as Sebastian pulled the chef's arm further along his spine, pulling his tendons but never causing them to snap. "Alright,_ I give up!_"

Sebastian slowly released Bard's arm and took his knee of the fragile human body. "Good. Now that I have your attention, I do believe the dust storm cleared up in the hallway. Perhaps we could try to get up the stairs now?"

Bard stretched his sore arm, rolling the joint around. "Did you take that annoying doll thing—ack, why the hell did you have to pull me so hard?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "It was necessary. And yes, I took it… just in case…"

"Hey, as long as the annoying mechanical screeching it produced is gone… eh?"

"What is it?"

Bard looked over to the far off desks, squinting. "I thought you threw my gun over there."

Sebastian looked that way, intrigued. He stood beside Bard, locking onto the desk he knew he couldn't fail to throw it on.

"I did."

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_More reivews=faster updates. *kissy face*_


	5. Maylene All Alone II

_Short chapter short because Maylene is an attention whore. I shall repay you back for the long wait with a longer chapter. One day. *goes back to bed*_

_Also changing the story from T to M, not because of detailed sex, but because I've thought over and revised the story line while I was away and realized that, for what is coming within a couple chapters, there will be a need of a higher rating because of excessive gore and rape._

_You read right. There will be a rape scene in this story. And not one you would like to see, I promise you that._

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Maylene woke up abruptly to the loud screech of chalk against board for the last time. Maroon eyes scanning the area curiously, dizzying herself with now fast she forced herself to take in the information. Turning her back on the black board, her eyes came upon nothing in particular but the rows and rows of perfectly preserved desks. Still, her heart was pumping blood to her ears, and the beginning of sweat was forming on the maid's brow.

_"Where am I?"_ Maylene tentatively asked herself. _"I don't remember getting here. What am I doing? I was in the infirmary before… Before…"_

Trembling slightly, the maid recalled past events as she hugged herself slightly in an attempt to remain complacent. She was a servant of Phantomhive and could take care of her own, she knew. But, being alone in such a condition was… disheartening in the least.

_"I was with my master, Bard and Finny… and Mr. Sebastian, yes, and we investigating on a case about… something… and there was… an earthquake… and…"_

Having too much trouble figuring out recent events, Maylene turned to face the black board. Her mind was trained for many years to stay calm, but what she saw made her face go askew, jaw dropping and blood running cold.

On the board was a huge drawing, taking up almost all of the space provided by the stretch of blank obsidian color, of four children. Or at least Maylene thought they were children, they were much smaller than their quarry on the floor. There were two girls and two boys… she thought… and one of the boys was holding a pair of scissors with red scribbles over the blades.

_"… Did I draw this?"_

The colorful chalk that stained her fingers dropped from her hand, slipped away like her mind from her body. She could feel herself losing herself to the thrill. "Impossible…" she said to herself, bumping her hips and pelvis against the rows of desks while running out of the classroom. "Impossible…" The maid's maroon pigtails whipped at her face as she passed the busted staircase, frantically searching for a place to be safe—_a place to not be alone._

Oh, how she longed to feel the warmth of her friends, to tell her it was alright, that they would make it out together. Little did she know, that was all a dream now.

She was running so fast and her vision was so blurred, she didn't notice the pure white ghost child in front of her until she ran right through its coldness and loneliness, absorbing it into her body. Recoiling at the last second, she fell to the ground, her romp hitting the wooden floor with a deafening _whump_. Panting harshly, mahogany eyes bugging out of their sockets, she trembled in front of the blood splattered specter.

A mutilated mouth contorted into a grin as half-gouged lifeless eyes stared at Maylene from across the small distance. The body itself was half broken to begin with, bones sticking out of the blistered skin. The fact that the face was peeled at the cheeks and lips only made looking into cold eyes more gruesome, so the maid tried to look down at the ghost's feet. There were none.

Squeezing her wet eyes shut, face streaked with tears, Maylene cringed into herself before letting out a high-pitched wail that shook the entire edifice.

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_The more reviews=more words in my repayment chapter_


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